


yanderetale drabbles

by Gae-ta (Gaeta), Gaeta



Category: Undertale
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, Swapfell, Yandere, underswap - Freeform, undertale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaeta/pseuds/Gae-ta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaeta/pseuds/Gaeta
Summary: Undertale yandere oneshot ficlets, mostly gender ambiguous insertX skeleton, inspired by various headcannons/imagines/prompts found around the web, warning and ratings may change





	1. burns

**Author's Note:**

> Links and credits at the bottom of each chapter
> 
> General TW: abusive relationships, both physical and emotional, please do not read if this triggers you
> 
>  
> 
> and here we go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> US!Papyrus is a jerk
> 
> (author's note, don't use cigarette burns during an actual scene, the scars last well over six months and there's no guarantee they'll ever fade completely)

You were out among friends the first time that it happened. At the time you'd figured it'd been an accident. Your hand had been next to the ash tray and accidents happen, no? And Paps had been so regretful, fuzzing over you instantly, insisting that you’d both go home so he could get some ointment for your hand.

Your friends had been less convinced, and had later voiced their concern, but he had already apologized so why dwell on it? Besides, you’d claimed with a shrug, it didn’t hurt anymore and you were healing just fine. You didn't talk much to your friends after that -not that you’d left on bad terms or anything- they were just too busy. College and Uni tends to do that to people, you figured, but you were still a bit miffed that they couldn’t even bother picking up the phone. Eventually you stopped calling at all.

The mark on your hand had turned into a pale maroon when he burned you the second time. The soft, tender skin at the crook of your arm. There had been an apology then, too, but it had seemed far less... sincere.

The third and onward, Paps didn’t even bother with seeming regretful and you found yourself wondering what you could’ve done to deserve it. He couldn’t just be cruel for cruelty’s sake, could he? It certainly wasn’t like him, Papyrus was a sweet and caring skeleton, a lazy goofball who never failed to make you laugh, so why were you beginning to feel… nervous around him? Whenever he became quiet and moody… with that cigarette always in hand, it made your heart beat in a way that wasn’t pleasant at all.

About six months into the relationship you began wearing thick wooly sweaters, regardless if it was weather appropriate or not. Never at home tough, Papyrus didn’t like it and could get... creative… if skin wasn’t readily available. It was around that time when you finally mustered up the courage to ask “Why?” while nervously wringing your plaster covered hands.

At first he gave no sign that he’d heard you, seemingly absorbed in whatever re-run that was on the TV. You wondered briefly if you’d dare ask again or if you should turn tail and run, before he nailed you to the spot with a sideway glance and an arm around your shoulder. He took a long, slow drag on his cigarette before finally answering,

“Sometimes… you just talk too much.”

\------

Inspired by https://crappyartforyou.tumblr.com/post/165370830223/oh-my-oh-my-that-cigarette-stretch-ask-is


	2. what's so funny?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> US!Papyrus is a jerk.
> 
>  
> 
> Inspired by https://crappyartforyou.tumblr.com/post/165796729632/yandere-stretchs-reaction-to-a-locked-up-so-who

He stared at her, caught off guard by his human’s outburst. Usually it was easy to ignore her when she threw a hissy fit, but this? It made him pause. The small human looked like it was ready to blow a fuse, its fists balled, blunt teeth bared and her fierce eyes never leaving his. Like the essence of a tiger trapped in the body of a tiny kitten. 

It was hilarious. 

Papyrus let out a low chuckle, which slowly grew, until he had to lean on the wall for support. By her tone of voice it was easy to tell it wasn't mere hope but a steadfast conviction. Hell, he knew humans could be determined but this? This sure took both the cake and candle.

By the time he had finally regained his bearings it looked as if his human had deflated a somewhat. Sure, she quickly straightened her back and pulled up her chin haughtily but, "W-what's so funny?" the slight tremble in her voice told another story.

"No one is looking for you, kid." Papyrus wheezed, clutching weakly at his sides. Damn, when was the last time he'd laughed so hard? He wiped a small tear from his eye socket, it sure felt like an eternity. "Wanna know why?" His human only shot him a silent, murderous glare so he continued. "They abandoned you," he sneered, "probably already declared you dead in your absence and pawned off all your trinkets they didn't fancy keepi- oh!" Papyrus quickly dodged a flying taco.

"You… you liar!" The human trembled with rage, "YOU LIAR, YOU FAT FUCKING LIAR! MY FAMILY'S LOOKING FOR ME, AND THEY GONNA FIND ME AND YOU-" Papyrus had already stopped listening, frowning at the ex-taco on the floor and wondered briefly how he should punish his human for wasting food, but decided he'd just 'forget' to feed her for a couple of days. His bro put a lot of effort (and glitter) into his cooking after all, and if the human got off scot-free she might think she's running the place. 

She still ranted and raged as he scooped up the taco and left, fortunately the door muffled most of the sounds. Thank the stars that he'd had the foresight to sound-proof the basement before bringing his human home.


	3. insert head-pun here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SF!Sans gets a-head in life
> 
> inspired by https://crappyartforyou.tumblr.com/post/165854305858/for-yandere-us-sans-sf-sans-and-ut-papyrus-do

‘It's better than nothing.’

You used to hate that phrase as a child, early on figuring out what it meant, to accept less than you deserved. It was the phrase your parents used when they gave you hand-me downs while your older siblings got fresh new clothes from the mall. You hated that very idea, the embedded injustice it represented. Now… it was words you lived by every day.

***

_"HUMAN, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!" You flinched at the small monster’s outburst, your escape plan already ruined before it even began._

_"Going out grocery shopping," you deadpanned, with one foot out the window, "we're all out of eggs and milk." Sans let out an indignant sound and before you knew it you were picked up by a purple mist of magic._

_"HUMAN, DON’T YOU THINK YOU CAN FOOL ME!” Oh god, why did he have to shout? You were literally less than two feet away. “YOU WERE TRYING TO SNEAK OUT, **AGAIN**!” You wondered briefly how much worse the punishment would get if you covered your ears, and if it’d be worth it. “HUMAN, THIS IS THE THIRD THIS WEEK!” It was probably not worth it, but sure it was tempting. “AND IF YOU THINK OUR RELATIONSHIP WILL STOP ME FROM PUNISHING YOU I’LL-“ _

_“Oh please,” you had snapped back, “what you gonna do, give me another black eye?” The way Sans clenched his jaw and ground his teeth was oddly satisfying, and almost made it worth having your leg broken, almost._

***

During the first months of your captivity you spent more time locked up in the basement than outside. Arms, leg and neck covered in bruises and band aids. It wasn’t anything new though, you’d never been the one to think before opening your mouth, and Sans’ riding crop wasn’t much different from dad’s cane.

Pain just didn’t affect you the same way it did others. No, you didn’t exactly enjoy the pain per se, but you wouldn’t let it control you either. Sure, having a broken leg put a serious dent in your escape plan, but it had actually been worse when you dislocated your shoulder back in third grade. Perhaps that was why you'd been so reckless and cocky, safe in your conviction that you could take whatever Sans threw at you.

You'd been both stupid and naive back then, thinking your actions would only affect you.

***

_You flinched at the sudden light, muttering a small curse as the movement caused your broken leg to shift painfully._

_"FEAR NOT HUMAN, FOR I, THE MALEVOLENT SANS AM IN A GIVING MOOD TODAY, MWEHEHE-HE.”_

_"Oh, joy is me," you groaned as you rubbed your sensitive eyes._

_“YES JOY IS YOU, HUMAN, BECAUSE DESPITE YOUR RESENT BEHAVIOR I’VE DECIDED TO TAKE TIME AND EFFORT OUT MY LIFE TO GET YOU THIS.” He plopped down a box on your lap. “NEEDLESS TO SAY, I EXPECT YOU TO BE GRATEFUL.”_

_The box in question was neatly decorated with both ribbons and colorful wrapping paper, though you gave it a confused look when you realized it was… leaking?_

_“What the… hell?” You stared at your wet hand, crinkling your nose, it smelled sorta sweet, but not the kind of sweet you’d want to put in your mouth…_

_A low, impatient growl from the skeleton snapped you back to reality._

_“Ah… er… real nice of you, Sans.” You wiped your hand on your trousers, for once deciding not to test the small skeleton’s patience. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” You opened the package slowly under Sans' watchful gaze, a soft tug was all that was needed for the ribbon to come undone. You chuckled nervously, half expecting the gift to be a coiled live snake. “Though, you didn’t have to do this, it’s not even birthday for another couple… of… months…” You stared at your 'gift' as it dawned on you what that it what that smelly liquid were. It was blood._

_You let out a terrified shriek as you flung the present across the room. It landed with a wet thud._

_“OH REALLY NOW.” Sans let out an exasperated huff, “I WENT THROUGH ALL THAT TROUBLE FINDING YOUR FRIEND AND BRINGING HIM HERE, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?” Shaking his head, he walked over and picked up the severed head by the hair. “MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE BROUGHT YOUR MOTHER INSTEAD? SINCE SHE OBVIOUSLY DIDN’T TEACH YOU MANNERS.”_

_“N-no!” you’d been surprised at the panicked fervor in your voice, “I’ll be good, please, I’ll be good!” it had never been that high since you exited puberty._

_“OH REALLY? YOU’LL BE GOOD?” Sans sauntered back to you, “ALL RIGHT, I’LL GIVE YOU A SECOND CHANCE, THEN.” He plopped the head back into your lap. “WHAT DO GOOD HUMANS SAY WHEN THEY ARE GIVEN PRESENTS?”_

_“T-thank you! They say thank you!” The satisfied smirk on Sans’ face was more than enough to tell you you’d given the right answer, and for the first time in months, you got to eat a warm meal._

_And you would have enjoyed it immensely, hadn’t it been for that cold, glassy, stare from across the room._

***..

You never tried to run away again after that, even when Sans ‘dropped’ the key to the basement door next to you. It had been an almost irresistible temptation, but you had managed to ignore it, and it seemed like you’d made the right choice because you were later let out with a small pat on your head.

It also seemed like Sans enjoyed this new docile disposition of yours, since you were granted a multitude of privileges. Access to every room, a chair by the kitchen table and a warm bed to sleep in at night. Granted, with the bed came every bed related duty expected by a spouse but… you’d learned to live with it.

It was kinda funny how things could change yet still remain the same, a riding crop really wasn’t that different from a cane, the only real difference was that you weren’t asked to keep quiet about it afterward.

At least you were allowed to leave the house now, sure, always in the company of one of the skelebros and never too far away from home, but it was better than nothing. A walk in the park or a short stroll in town, window shopping at your own leisure, sometimes even going inside and buying something. Everything you could ever ask for was yours… except freedom.

Well, you could pretend at least, glancing up at sky. For a moment allowing yourself close your eyes and pretend, savoring the warm sunshine and crisp autumn air… interrupted only by a skeletal hand on your shoulder.

“human, it’s getting late, it’s time to go back.”

You know better than to argue, to try and do something stupid. It’s better than nothing, you remind yourself, as you walk back home to your prison.

‘It’s better than nothing.’

You used to hate that phrase as a child, but now… it was the words you lived by every day.


End file.
